


You Sicken Me

by CrimeAlley1048



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeAlley1048/pseuds/CrimeAlley1048
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's flu season!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Sicken Me

“Hey, guys?” Stephanie put a hand against the bunker wall to steady herself. “I’m not… feeling so well.”  
That was an understatement, really, because she felt awful— like she could fall over at any second. Her head hurt. Her hands were shaking. All of a sudden, she felt cold, even though she’d been sweating a few minutes before. What was going on?  
Across the room, Dick looked up from his computer screen, pulling back his cowl to inspect her with concern.  
“Are you injured?”  
Stephanie shook her head because she was pretty certain that she hadn’t been stabbed, shot, or gassed in the last twenty-four hours. Unless she’d missed it? Maybe Damian had finally gone through with his plan to poison her— he’d been threatening to do it for weeks.  
But he wouldn’t actually hurt her. She was (reasonably) sure.  
“I think I’m gonna lie down.” Steph felt her way along the wall to the medical bay and collapsed into one of the hospital beds, pulling the sheet over her head. She couldn’t stop shivering. Maybe she could get Dick to bring her some tea? He didn’t look particularly busy.  
Then the bunker door banged open, spilling in a patch of sunlight, a gust of cold air, and four-and-a-half feet of angry ten year old. Steph ducked further underneath her blanket.  
“Grayson?” She could hear Damian’s voice getting louder as he moved towards her bed. “Have you seen my— who’s that?”  
Steph poked her head out of her sheet and waved at him.  
“Hi.”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Trying not to puke, to be honest. Listen, you didn’t actually put hemlock in my water bottle, did you? Important question.”  
Damian stared at her for a few seconds. “No?”  
“Just checking.” Steph fell back against her pillow and closed her eyes. “Is it cool if I stay here for a while?” she asked. “I’m not sure I can drive.”  
“Yeah, we’re not going anywhere.” said Dick. “Do you want me to get you something?”  
“Tea?”  
“You got it.” She heard him take a few steps towards the door, then stop. Problem? Stephanie cracked open an eye— Dick was standing in front of Damian, watching him curiously.  
“You’re blushing.”  
“I’m not.”  
“Yes you are. You’re all red.”  
“It’s just… really hot in here.”  
“It definitely isn’t,” Steph said, from underneath her blanket— she was still freezing.  
“Come here.” Dick knelt in front of Damian, placing a hand on his forehead. Damian tried to smack it away, but Dick persisted.  
“Shut up and hold still.” Dick straightened up and sighed. “You have a fever. Go wait with Steph while I get Alfred.”  
“I’m sick?” Damian whirled on Stephanie, who shrunk farther into her hospital bed. “You got me sick?”  
“Who says it came from me?” The flu had been going around her campus, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “Maybe you gave it me. Little kids get sick all the time, right? I’m just saying.”  
“Did you just call me a little kid?”  
“Did you look in the mirror this morning?”  
“Okay, I’m gonna go now,” Dick muttered, backing out the door.  
“I’ll have you know, Brown, that my immune system, _like everything else about me_ , is superior.”  
“Says the little kid with the fever.”  
“I don’t care how sick you are, I will fight you here and now.”  
“Tell me, do you have to climb on the kitchen counter to reach the plates? Or did Alfred buy you a step-stool?”  
“ _Literally_ fight me.”  
“Oh, you wanna go?” Stephanie pulled herself into a sitting position— think confident thoughts, Steph, confident thoughts.  
“Yes.”  
“Well I’d really rather not.” She slumped back onto her bed, exhausted. “Can you hand me another blanket? My fingers are turning blue.”  
“Fine.” Damian pulled the sheet off an adjacent bed and settled onto it himself. “How are you feeling?”  
“Terrible. You?”  
“My throat hurts.”  
“Sorry.”  
They sat in silence until Dick came back, clutching a mug of tea in one hand and his cell in the other. “—so if you could come pick her up,” he continued into his phone, “that would be great? I don’t know, she says she doesn’t want to drive, and she looks pretty sick—”  
“Yeah,” Steph muttered. “Sick of you. Oh, yeah— Justice is _served_! That’s right.” She extended a hand in Damian’s direction. “Can I get a high five?”  
Damian didn’t move— didn’t he know it was rude to leave a girl hanging? Stephanie cleared her throat.  
“You better slap the hand before the hand slaps you,” she told him.  
Damian pulled a knife from his belt and stared at her meaningfully.  
“Never mind.” Steph turned back to Dick to take her tea and found him grinning at her, hefting his phone.  
“Speaker,” he whispered.  
From his phone came Barbara’s voice. “Alright, she can’t be _that_ sick.”  
Whoops. “Hey, Oracle.”  
“Hi. I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay? Try to behave.”


End file.
